Editors Note: Rich Lerner reflects after three weeks on the road covering the U.S. Open, the CVS Charity Classic and a pair of Champions Tour events.
The annual outrage at the U.S. Open shares too big a piece of the stage with the winner.
Went to Walden Pond, where Thoreau contemplated weighty matters, concluding that men have become the tools of their tools. Prescient, considering H.D. lived 150 years before the advent of the $500 driver.
Went to a Red Sox game with my wife and two boys. Arrived at Fenway in the second, ate hot dogs in the bowels of the stadium in the third, bought bobble heads in the fourth, went to the bathroom in the fifth, looked for our seats in the sixth, stretched in the seventh, beat the traffic in the eighth. Kids had a ball.
Saw Craig Stadler shoot 64 to win in Concord, Mass., and thought of Charles Barkley, John Kruk, Jackie Gleason and Chris Farley'men with ample girth, nimble feet and huge talent.
Saw Jefferson Mays play several characters in the Tony Award and Pulitzer Prize winning I Am My Own Wife and thought of Michael Jordan so astounding was the performance.
Passed on the $1,000 caviar omelet at Le Parker Meridien in midtown Manhattan. Went frugal with the $25 French toast.
Im not saying Stevie Williams is scary, but Frank the Talking Head Cover is reportedly seeking amnesty in Skip Kendalls bag.
Greg Norman told me hell play the Champions Tour majors next year.
My son told me I was getting gray hair on the sides.
My wife told me not to hang my clothes on the bedpost.
With loyal sponsors Cialis and Levitra, well, I dont know how to say this delicately but E.D. is keeping a lot of us in the golf business well fed. And were not talking extra distance. Or are we?
Jim Thorpes violent assault on the golf ball'the move is the anti-Els'is both brutal and thrilling to watch. Its also extremely effective.
Does anyone else like corn beef and hash with eggs over easy?
In one lovely four-day stretch, I saw Chi Chi do the sword dance, Arnie hole a bunker shot and sunrise over Central Park.
In one ugly four-minute stretch, I pull-hooked my drive, caught a limb on my second, a bunker on my third, the hossle on my fourth, the heel on my fifth, the lip on my sixth and laughter from my partners on my seventh.
Saw Chad Campbell and David Toms make nine straight birdies at the CVS. It reminded me of another classic best-ball moment growing up in Pennsylvania. Louie Epstein putted to the edge of the hole at the par-4 16th and said to his partner and son-in-law, Howard Sokol, Let me tap that in Howard thats an 8 for a 6. Howard had 40 feet over a swale, needing two putts for a bogey, net par. His first putt never made it to the ridge, going maybe 4 feet total. Exasperated, he barked at his father-in-law, For cryin out loud Lou, I cant run at anything!